


The Red Death Pirates

by SimpKoi



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Violence, Gen, Lots of Cursing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirates, Takes place in the 1700's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25234297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimpKoi/pseuds/SimpKoi
Summary: Tommy has always envisioned himself sailing across the seven oceans and finding buried treasure. But as time went on, he abandoned that dream as just a childish fantasy. That is until he comes face to face with one of the most ruthless pirates crew to sail the seas- The Red Death Pirates.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 254





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea that I have been thinking about for the past few months and finally decided to sit my ass down and write it. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

The sun has just about finished setting over the ocean and turned the deep cerulean waters into a burning orange flame. Flocks of seagulls flew across the orange-tinted sky, nipping and calling each other for one last meal. The full moon peeks out behind fluffy, rosy-colored clouds and gradually becomes more visible as the sun laid to rest. 

This was Tommy's favorite part of the day: watching as the vast ocean change colors in front of his eyes. To witness as the sun and moon share the endless skies for a few minutes fills him with awe. 

A heavy bang echoed through the air that made his eyes shift away from the breathtaking scenery. His previous pleasant mood was now spoiled by envy as he saw the approaching seamen anchor their large ship. He watched on as the men hauled their days catching out of their vessel and onto the wooden dock.

His eyes caught sight of one of the crew members unloading their cargo. It looked to be a boy approximately around his age. He seemed to be visibly struggling to throw a heavy net stuffed with fish over the deck's railing and onto the pier. It was obvious that he is a new addition to the ship. The boy did not have the thick muscles that the rest of the seamen own. His green frayed shirt sleeves were pushed up to his shoulders that revealed previous pale skin that has now been scorched with the sun's unrelenting touch. The boy's face grew bright red, and his thin arms trembled as he strained to pick up the heavy net of fish. Drops of sweat slowly traveled from his temple and dripped down onto the ship's wooden deck. A large man with sun-bronzed skin, who clearly spent time at sea for a numerous length, seized the net from the boy with one hand and hauled it over the deck. The sack made a heavy thud as it struck the wooden planks of the pier. The boy peered over the ship's rail and gawked out at the thrown net lying on the dock. He turned his gaze back upward at the fisherman, scratched the back of his neck, and let out a quiet sheepish chuckle. In turn, the fisherman let out a booming laugh that startled the boy and wrapped his arm playfully around his neck and ruffled the boys' dark brown hair. 

Tommy could not help but feel a touch of pity for the boy. It must be difficult to keep up with the substantial amount of workload that a fisherman has. He continued to watch on as the last fisherman on the boat and lowered the numerous sails attached to the mast. Done with his work, the fishermen walked down the plank attached to the ship and lifted the load of fish over his brawny shoulder. He caught sight of Tommy's eyes as he walked by, gave him a small greeting, and trailed after the rest of the crew. 

Once the man was no longer in his view, Tommy shifted his gaze away and glanced out at the ocean. He noticed that the sun had disappeared over the now dark waters, leaving only the moon to light the way. 

  
He cast out a dejected sigh and resumed his trek to the diner to start his evening shift. Tommy did not particularly like his job, but it earns him money. Without having a home, and is only able to spend the nights at an orphanage, he has no right to gripe about his job. Besides, this was the longest time that Tommy was able to keep a job. But oh how he so desires to go off to sea, travel around the seven oceans, and find buried riches. 

'You are not a child anymore. Stop thinking about fantasies and man up Tommy,' He uttered to himself as he shook his head as if to clear away those absurd thoughts.

* * *

He caught sight of the diner and hurried to quicken his pace. He knew that if he delayed any longer, his boss would not be too pleased with him. He knows that he has a bad habit of losing track of time and comes in late more often than not, and he cannot afford to become jobless again. He's quite astonished that his boss did not fire him yet, but he's not going to complain. 

As Tommy comes up closer, he notices a sheet of paper posted on the doors of the fruit market that is located next to the diner. Curiosity wins him over, and he makes his way over to see what it says. In large black ink, it writes out, 'Sorry but closed for an undisclosed amount of time.' The disappointment hits him harder than he expected. The shop owner was a kind, old lady who never failed to give him a small bag of fruit when he became hungry and could not afford food. Her shop was known for many years by selling the freshest and best-tasting fruit in town. Even the high-class would get in their carriages and make the journey to the "dreaded rat-infested slums" of the lower class to buy her fruit. 

'I wonder if I will ever see her again.' He thought morosely as he walked away. 'I never got to thank her.' 

  
With his mood ruined further, he makes his way back toward the worn-out building of the diner; he catches sight of a large group of people by the entrance. He realizes that it is a large family with many small children in tow. To what seems to be their mother, who is currently struggling to calm a screaming young toddler down so that they could enter the building quietly. But, her efforts seem to be in vain as it is also starting to affect the other young children who are beginning to grow restless. 

Tommy heaves a sigh as he begins to mentally prepare himself for the long night ahead of him. Looking up at the wooden sign that reads Bucky's Diner and Bar, which is hung just above the entryway, notices it looks a lot more lopped sided than usual. 

'Must be because of the storm last night.' Tommy thought to himself as he made his way towards the side of the paint- chipped building, and into the entrance of the dark alleyway. 

Tommy always hated going down this alleyway. 'Better not be any fucking weirdos here again.' 

  
Scanning the alleyway and seeing that it is empty, he breathes a sigh of relief but is short-lived when his foot trips over something heavy lying on the ground. He is able to catch himself with his hands and escapes the abrupt fall with only a few scrapes on his hands. 

  
"What the fuck?" Tommy exclaims and looks back to see that it was a pile of waste bags that he's pretty certain that his co-worker should have taken care of beforehand. 

  
Tommy picks himself up, wipes away the dirt on his tattered over-sized shirt, and steps over the remaining trash bags and heaves what feels like the hundredth sigh as he knows that he will have to take care of it himself later. He opens the side door that lets out a deafening squeak and enters the backroom. 

"Well look who finally decided to show up," a gruff voice said. 

Tommy finds the owner of the voice to be the bartender who is in the middle of changing out of his shirt, which is currently soaked in a red liquid.   
  


"What happened to you?" Tommy asked as he walked over to a barrel that his uniform sits on top of. 

"Just a drunk customer who threw his drink at me when I said I ain't giving him a damn free drink just because he works for the king." The bartender by now has finished buttoning up a new clean white shirt and walks over to a barrel filled with water and drops the soiled shirt in. 

"Damn royals," Tommy mutters as he starts to lace up the strings around his black apron.   
  


Tommy loathes the royal family with a passion. He knows that they are nothing but greedy money hungry bastards who don't give a single fuck about the people. Like raising taxes to an absurd amount just because they can. He's seen firsthand the royal guard ransack homes because the residents couldn't afford to pay the rising price of taxes. 

"Damn royals is right," the bartender agreed as he walked over to the door and turned the handle. "Good luck out there kiddo, saw a big crowd come in," he stated as he walked through the doorway but turned around last minute and said, "And don't forget to blow out the lantern when you leave," and without saying anything else, quietly stepped out.

"Thanks," Tommy muttered to himself. Wiping any leftover dust from his previous fall off his shirt, he walks over to the lantern hanging above the ceiling. He unhooks the small glass plane and blows out the flame, leaving him in pitch darkness. Tommy falters to the door handle, takes a deep breath, and prays that the night will go by fast. 

* * *

It did not go by fast. In fact, that was probably the worst shift that he ever worked. He could barely hear what people were ordering over the many screaming children. He continuously messed up multiple orders, which resulted in him getting cursed out when he brought out the wrong dish. 

He did not receive any tips that night.

It's now almost midnight, and people are slowly trickling out of the diner. Only a few people are sitting by the bar at this late hour. Tommy makes his way over to the bar and takes a seat on the creaky wooden stool. The bartender slowly makes his way over to Tommy while cleaning an empty glass with a rag. 

"Long night?" The bartender asks as he sets down the now clean glass and picks up a new one to clean. 

"Tell me about it," muttered Tommy and folds his arms across the top of the counter. 

  
An awkward silence came between them, but Tommy couldn't bring himself to notice. His head was filled with replays of the events that happened throughout the night, what he should and shouldn't have done. 

The bartender sets down the clean glass a little too harshly, which startles Tommy out of his depressing thoughts. "Want a glass of water?" He suggests but does not wait for a response and is already filling a cup up with ice. 

Tommy nods in response and stares at the glass of water now placed in front of him. He reaches over and gulps down the entire glass of icy cold water. He lets out a sharp wince when the cold water gives his chest a shock. 

"Careful there young lad, don't give yourself a heart attack now," the bartender insisted as he now began to wipe down the sticky, rum covered counter. 

"That can happen?" Tommy exclaimed as he looked down at the glass in his hand in disgust as if it personally wronged him.

"Trust me lad, I've seen a lot of things happen at this bar." 

Tommy hummed in response and set his head down upon his arms and closed his eyes. He hated working the evening shift. He much prefers the calmness of the morning shift. 'That's when all of the beautiful women show up,' he mused to himself. 

A sudden bump against his shoulder knocks him out of his daydream. He glances up and sees that it's a drunk middle-aged man stumbling out of the building with what looks to be his buddy holding his arm across his shoulders, steadying him on his way out. The diner is left in deafening silence as the last customers leave and start their walk home.

Tommy lets out an exaggerated sigh and lays down his head again. 'Can't wait to head to the orphanage and finally get some sleep.' He thinks as he snuggles his head further into his arms. 'But at least my shift is just about over,' he thought to himself as he closed his eyes. 

"Don't get comfortable just yet. You got more customers."

Tommy lifted his head up in confusion. "Huh? There shouldn't be any more customers this late into the night." 

The bartender tilted his head in the direction of the front entrance. "Tell that to them." 

Tommy lazily turned his head in the direction of the entrance. Three tall figures clothed in dark hooded cloaks made their way to a table at a corner of the diner. Every step that they took seemed to echo in the previously vacant building. 

Tommy looked back at the bartender in open confusion, but didn't do anything but shrug and turned around to start rearranging the wine bottles lined up at the back of the bar. 

Tommy heaved a loud sigh and mumbled under his breath, "Why can't I spend the rest of my night peacefully," as he made his way over to where they sat. 

Walking over to them, he realized that cloaked figures choose to sit in the darkest part of the diner. Tommy couldn't help feeling like a rock sunk to the bottom of his stomach when he saw what looked to be long sheathed swords attached to their belts. He swallowed nervously as he put his guard up and stuttered, "I-I'm sorry, but we do not allow w-weapons here at this establishment."

The three cloaked figures simultaneously turned their heads slowly towards him. Tommy could not help but feel like he was being perceived like helpless prey, especially from the one sitting closest to him. 

Concealing a small whimper, he stammered out, "N-Never mind. W-what can I get for you, gentleman?"

The person sitting nearest to him answers him in a low deep voice, "Water, bread, and any kind of soup that you have."

"Is the potato soup all right for you?" Tommy asks as he shakily writes their order down on a small slip of paper. However, the figure already turned his head away from him as if done with the conversation. 

After waiting for a few awkward seconds longer than he should have, voiced nervously, "I-I'll get that ready for you." He abruptly turns on his heels and almost sprints towards the kitchen. His sudden loud entrance wakes the cook from his nap. 

"The fuck Tommy?" The cook sneers as he wipes away the streak of drool that was making its way down his salt and pepper stubble jaw. The diners cook was well known for being extremely irritable and could not take criticism. Tommy knows that he is seconds away from getting cursed at that would even make a sailor ashamed, but he could not bring himself to care at the moment. 

"Three orders of potato soup and a basket of bread," Tommy cuts off before the cook could say anything else.   
  


The cook let out a hoarse scoff and raised a bushy eyebrow at Tommy and jeered, "Who in their bloody fucking mind would order food at this damn time?"

Tommy gives him a small shrug, which the cook only sneers at and gets up from his chair. He roughly bumps into him and makes his way lazily to the cutting board. 

Tommy clicked his tongue at him and quietly spat, "Jeez, who crawled up your ass and died," when the cook was far enough not to overhear. Tommy makes his way to where the baskets of bread are stored with only the occasional chop of a potato filling up the heavy silence. 

Placing the handle of the basket in the crook of his elbow, he pushes open the kitchen door and walks up to the bar. He does not find the bartender when he wanders up and leans over the bar to see him hunched by the floor. "Three glasses of water, please." 

  
The bartender looks up from where he is crouching on the floor, cleaning up a spill. "Alright, one-second kiddo."

Tommy leans back and looks over his shoulder as indiscernible as he can to see the three figures huddled close together, speaking so softly that Tommy cannot even pick up a single word. 

"Here you go."

Tommy turns his attention back towards the bar and sees three glasses filled with icy water sitting on a black platter. "Thanks." 

All he gets back in response is a nod. Tommy slides the tray carefully into his hand and raises it in the air. Gearing himself up, he balances the platter as he cautiously makes his way to the table. When he reaches their table, the cloaked figures all stop their conversation and look up towards Tommy. 

"Um, h-here's your water and bread," Tommy stampers out as he shakily hands out the glasses of water to them and places the basket of bread on the center of the table. "Your soups are a-almost ready." The two sitting farthest away immediately grabs a loaf and starts eating as if they were starving. The one closest to him never looked away from him. 

He took in a shaky breath, "T-That would be three silver shillings p-please."

The cloaked figure didn't move. 

'Oh no, I hope these guys are not going to cause a scene. Please, I had a bad enough day already," he thought as he felt sweat start to appear at the edge of his hairline. 

After what seemed like years, the man slowly pulled back his cloak and took out a small sack sitting in his breast pocket. While the man dug through it to find the correct amount, something shiny reflected in Tommy's eyes and he peered downwards towards the man's waist. 

An icy blanket of fear washed over him so suddenly that it knocked his breath away. Attached to the man's belt was a sword that ignited fear down to his bones. On the hilt of the sheathed sword, was a small carved silver skull with dripping blood coming from its orifices. Tommy knew that it wasn't just any sword. That is a sword that belongs to the infamous deadly pirate crew—the Red Death Pirates.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay a lot of life stuff has been happening and I couldn't seem to find the time to sit and write this chapter, but its here now. Enjoy!

* * *

_'Holy fuck,’_ was his first thought. 

_'Holy Fuck. I'm going to die.'_

Now Tommy always knew that he had a shitty life, having to live on the street, and the only place that he could call 'home' is a run-down shack on the outskirts of the city. If he wanted to spend the night without waking up feeling sore from sleeping on the ground or waking up to cockroaches crawling all over him, he would sneak into the orphanage to spend the night and slip out early in the morning so as to not get caught by the staff. He has no desire to join their system and have to pretend to be family to complete strangers if he ends up getting adopted. 

Tommy always had the worst of luck and continuously seemed to get in some sort of trouble even if he goes out of his way to avoid it. But he didn't think his luck would stoop this low. 

Up until now, Tommy never actually encountered any pirates and only heard rumors and legends about them. Usually, parents told their children that if they don't do their chores or if they don't eat their vegetables, then pirates would kidnap you and make you walk the plank to feed you to their pet sharks. Tommy always rolled his eyes when he walked through town and heard parents telling their kids that when they would start to throw a fit. _'Children are so gullible,'_ Tommy would think as he saw that they would quiet down immediately when their parents told them that. _'For fuck sake, what makes pirates so scary?'_

But now it was a whole different story; standing right in front of what could be one of the most ruthless pirate crews that sailed the oceans is not what he expected his night to turn out. 

Tommy felt his throat try to swallow saliva that didn't seem to stop building up. He sends out a quick mental apology to everyone that he thought were idiots for believing those stories. 

The soft tap of coins hitting the wooden table brings Tommy out of his rapidly deteriorating thoughts. He glances sharply down and sees the polished shillings stacked together on the edge of the table. Tommy hastily snatches them up and slips them in the front pocket of his food-stained apron.

"T-Thank you," Tommy stutters as he takes several small steps back. He knows that he looks suspicious right now, considering that they are all staring at him, but he just wants to be as far away from them as possible. "I-I'll check up on your soup." He practically says in one breath as he sharply turns on his heel and practically sprints towards the kitchen doors.

He burst through the kitchen doors, which made the door slam into the wall so hard that Tommy couldn't help let out a small wince. He sincerely hoped that he didn't leave a dent; his boss would kill him if those pirates don't kill him first.

"The fuck Tommy!"

He was knocked out of his stupor and whipped his head around toward the harsh voice. He saw the cook holding a wooden spoon that Tommy presumed was filled with hot broth, but the steaming liquid dripping down his face tells him otherwise. The cook's face slowly turned red, and Tommy couldn't determine whether it was from the boiling broth burning his face or his rising anger. 

"S-sorry, I just wanted to check up on the soup," Tommy quickly cut off when he saw the cook open his mouth to what he assumed to start cursing at him. 

The cook lets out a growl and violently throws down the spoon in the boiling pot. "You'll know when the soup is fucking ready when I ring the goddamn bell!"   
  


"I-I'm very sorry," Tommy stuttered.

"Just get fuck out."

Tommy left the kitchen. He enters the diner's main room and looks up to see the three figures looking his way. His embarrassment swells up, and he quickly looks down to hide his rising blush. He turns on his heel and hastily decides to hide in the backroom. 

He promptly closes the door behind him and is suddenly engulfed in pitch-blackness. He questions himself whether or not to look for a torch to light up the room but decides against it. He doesn't want to fumble around a dark room. 

"Ugh," He groans as he slides down the door to sit on the ground and tucks his head in his knees. He seriously doesn't want to go back there. But he knew that he couldn't delay here forever. He didn't want to miss the bell, and he doesn't want to piss off the cook even more. 

That's when the realization hits him. _'Holy fuck, there are pirates here.'_ He starts gnawing at his lip as he feels like a rock sunk to the bottom of his stomach. _'What do I do?'_ He thinks as he stands up on shaky legs. He draws open the door a little and peaks through the small crack. Seeing that no one is waiting behind the door to kill him, he takes a deep breath, fully opens the door, and walks out.

Keeping his head down, he takes a small glimpse at the suspected pirates sitting at the table and feels his heart jump when one notices him and turns his way. He ducks his head again and makes his way to the bar. He spots the bartender putting away beer mugs and walks behind the bar counter.

"What's up with you today, lad?" The bartender questions as he puts down the mug on the counter and turns toward Tommy. 

Tommy grabs him by the shoulder and proceeds to yank him down to the floor.

"What the fu-"

Tommy quickly shushes him and takes a small peek over the counter. "Those guys over there are pirates." He ducks down when he sees that they are not looking and whispers, "make sure-" he stops when he sees the bartender giving him a deadpan expression. "What?"

The bartender lets out a long sigh and slowly slides his palm down his face, "Tommy, first of all, how do you know that they are pirates and-"

"They aren't just any pirates," Tommy interrupts, he takes another peek to make sure that they are not looking their way. "They're the Red Death pirates," He whispers with clenched teeth as if even saying that would bring them over here. 

The bartender lets out another sigh and starts to stand up, but Tommy yanks him back down with whispered chants of no's. 

"Look, Tommy, you had a long day, and I think your eyes are starting to play tricks with you."

"But I saw-"

"Even if you did see something, there are many people who impersonate pirates to benefit their reputation."

Defeated Tommy lowers his head, and the bartender pauses and leans over to pat him on his shoulder. "Chin up lad. Even if they are the Red Death, as long as you don't do anything stupid, you have nothing to worry about. They are not a crew who kill for fun."

The sound of a bell rings throughout the diner. "Well, that's your cue. Good luck, lad." The bartender gets up from the floor and makes his way to finish putting away the beer mugs. 

Tommy lets out a sigh, picks himself up, and slowly walks to the kitchen. He pushes open the swinging doors (much more gently this time) and spots three bowls of steaming potato soup on the small counter next to the entrance. He takes them and places the bowls on a black serving tray. Balancing the tray over his shoulder, he takes a deep breath to prepare himself as he walks out of the kitchen. Tommy's hands shake with each step closer to the table, and he tries his best to steady them. Tommy really doesn't want to spill this on the floor; he already had enough embarrassment today to last him a lifetime. 

While regretting each step, he approaches their table and sees them all stop their hushed conversations to look up at him. He curses his trembling hands as he places their bowls in front of them. When he went to put down the bowl for the man he saw had the sword, a violent tremor jolted through his body. He watches in silent horror as he sees some of the boiling broth spill over the edge of the porcelain bowl, and onto the pants of the suspected pirate. The burning liquid startles the cloaked figure, and Tommy sees him suddenly reach into his cloak to what Tommy guesses is his sword, as fierce gold eyes peek out from under the cloak and glare up at him.

_'Well, this is it. This is where I die.'_ Tommy swiftly grabs a handkerchief from his apron pocket in an attempt to defuse the situation from getting any worse. He quickly decides that it would be a really terrible idea to help pat down his trousers because the man's hand never moved away from his sword's hilt, and he doesn't intend to lose his hand. 

"I-I'm so s-s-sorry I didn't mean f-for that to happen!" He hastily exclaims as his arm is still stretched out for the figure to grab the handkerchief. He really thinks he's about to die when he sees the man not accept it and instead narrows his eyes at him even more. The other cloaked man sitting beside the infuriated man reaches out and gently pats his shoulder. The golden-eyed man clicks his tongue and removes his hand from the hilt of the sword. He shoots his arm out so suddenly that it makes Tommy flinch. The man yanks the handkerchief vigorously enough from Tommy's hand that for a split second, he thinks that he broke his wrist. Tommy stands there dumbfounded for a few seconds before giving them a small bow and mumbles another apology and books it out of there. 

He quickly makes his way to a small closet by the corner of the diner while mentally chanting, _'Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.'_ He wrenches open the door and shuts himself in the claustrophobic space. _'Why the fuck did you do that Tommy,'_ he thinks as he pulls on his hair. _'They're definitely going to kill you now.'_

He lets out a sigh and drops down his arms. He blindly reaches over to put the tray on an empty shelf and reaches for the mop and bucket that's already filled with soapy water. "The sooner I clean up, the sooner I can leave." 

He cautiously opens the door and hurriedly makes his route to the opposite side of the diner from where the pirates are occupying. He soaks the mop in the bucket and gets to work. He maneuvers around the tables, scrubbing away any dirt he sees while making sure that he is out of sight of the table of three. He spends a while trying to clean away a spilled beverage that has now seeped through the cracks of the wooden floor and has now been stained. He recognizes that it was the doing of the child earlier who was throwing a tantrum outside the building. Mentally cursing out the child, he scrubs the stain to the point where his arms start to feel heavy but to no avail. 

"Forget it," he mutters as he leaves it and starts walking to another table. He gazes over at the table that has caused him so much anxiety and double-takes when he sees that it is empty. He whips his head toward the direction of the entrance and sees the door close behind the retreating figures. 

_'At least I won't be murdered tonight,'_ he muses to himself as he makes his way toward their table, holding the mop to his chest as if it were a weapon to protect him from any sudden attacks. Coming up to the table, he sees his soiled handkerchief folded neatly at the end of the table, along with three silver shillings. The shillings caught him by surprise. "Didn't they already pay?" He muttered as he picked them up and brought it close to his face as if they weren't real. Then the realization hits him, _'Oh, they tipped me.'_

They were the only ones who did today.

He notices something off about the shillings. They felt heavier than usual and had different markings engraved in it. _'These shillings aren't from this kingdom,'_ He thought in surprise, walking over to where there is more light to make sure that he wasn't seeing things.

Excitement shot through his body. There aren't any nearby kingdoms or cities. That means that they had to travel far across the ocean to another nation in order to get these. 

It was as if something possessed him; whether it was excitement or the desire of freedom sailing across the ocean. Before he knew it, he dropped his mop and was tearing through the back door and outside to the alleyway, ignoring the bartender's shout after him.

"Shit," He said as he whipped his head around, "Where did they go?" He ran down the dark alley with only the moon to light his path with his footsteps loudly echoing. He frantically ran up and down alleyways in hopes of catching up to them. 

For the first time today, his luck finally seems to start taking pity on him when he spots the figures turning a corner of an alleyway. He picks up his pace and turns the corner where he saw them turn but stops abruptly when a sword is pointed at his throat. 

_'They probably knew I was following them,'_ he thought as he gulps loudly at the sharp point of the sword poking at his adam's apple. That's when the consciousness of what he is doing hits him. _'What the actual fuck am I thinking,'_ He thinks as he looks up at the figure, pointing the sword at him. Golden eyes glare at him sharply, and the threat of slitting his throat evident in his eyes. 

_'Why the fuck do you actually think they would take you in Tommy?'_ He thinks to himself angrily as he slowly raises his hands in the air to show he means no threat and takes a small step back. But his efforts were clearly in vain when the man inched forward after him, pressing the sword back to his neck. The question of why Tommy was following them was quite clear in the man's eyes. 

Fuck it. _'If I'm going to die here might as well say it.'_ Tommy takes a deep breath and shrieks almost in all one breath, "Please let me join your crew!" The response seemed to have taken them aback as the two figures behind shared a small glance with each other, but the man pointing his sword at him didn't seem fazed and only further narrowed his eyes at Tommy. 

"Leave."

The smooth deep voice caught him off guard. After a few seconds of stunned silence, the man appeared to be done with him and turned his back to him and started walking away, the others following suit. 

"Wait!" Tommy called out in a last-ditch effort while the rational part of him was screaming at him to get out of there while they still let him. "I know that you're pirates." That made them stop. The golden-eyed man slowly turned his head toward him, and Tommy felt his body freeze with fear at the murderous look pointed his way. "I-I'm not going to r-report you to the Royal Navy. I have n-no plans to I-I just....uh-"

"Why?"

The question catches him off guard. Thinking of his reasons, he's sure that they heard similar stories to his, someone who has nothing to lose and wants to sail. Why would his story be any different? 

He takes a deep breath to calm down his racing heart and decides to give it a shot. "Um... well, you see..." He trails off, not knowing how to start or even how to convince them. Seeing the pirate tighten his grip on his sword's handle, he forces himself to start talking. "I-I don't have a home, or any family left that I know of..." He brings his hand up and scratches the back of his neck as he reluctantly tears his eyes away from the sword and makes eye contact. "A-And I uh... always wanted to sail across the oceans. It's been my d-dream since I was a kid."

He could tell that it's not working from the unimpressed look that he is receiving. The pirates turn and start walking away. 

Part of him tells him just to let it go so he could live to see another day, but the other, filled with boyish excitement, refuses to let go. His mind races with ideas on how to convince the man who might be his only shot on sailing, not to walk away. 

"WAIT!" He yells as he starts to run after them, but seeing the sword still drawn decides to walk instead. "I uh... you don't have to recruit me as a full-on crew member um... I-I can be your cabin boy." Seeing them not rejecting him yet, he gains a bit of confidence and continues. "I can cook and clean and help you with any handiwork that you may need help with... just-" His voice trails off, not knowing what to say. He stops, bows his head and whispers, "Please."

After several long seconds of dead silence, he expects to see them gone, but when he picks up his head, he's surprised to see them still there, huddled close together, and talking in hushed whispers. After what feels like years of waiting, they finally turn back to look at him. 

The golden-eyed man stares at him for several long seconds as if looking for something in him. In defeat, the pirate sighs and sheaths his sword. In a low voice, he replies, "Look, kid, our crew isn't looking to recruit anyone."

Tommy shouts out in panic, "But-"

He cuts himself off when the pirate raises a finger, signaling him to be quiet. "This type of lifestyle isn't as great as what you are probably envisioning it." The man turns toward him entirely and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Why don't you become a fisherman or go join the Royal Navy?"

The thing is, Tommy had thought of becoming a fisherman but couldn't seem to find any open positions when he asked around. Besides, he doesn't want to become a fisherman. They may seem like people who practically live out on the ocean, but they are tied to the land, always having to return home at the end of the day. Tommy doesn't want that. He wants the ocean to be his home. 

Joining the Royal Navy was out of question. 

"I'm not interested in becoming a fisherman. I want to live out at sea without being tied down to land." Taking a steady breath, he continues, "And I would rather rot than join the Royal Navy. There's no way I'm working for that scumbag of a king." He knew he said something right when he saw approval flash through the pirate's eyes. 

"It's a dangerous life," The pirate utters as he takes slow, menacing steps toward Tommy. Tommy feels the sudden urge to flee, but he clenches his fists and holds his ground without breaking eye contact with the man. "You would have to take on the title of a pirate. You realize what that means don't you? You're still young, and you can still get your life together and not throw that away by becoming a pirate." The pirate has now fully stopped in front of Tommy, and Tommy has to strain his neck upwards to look at him.

"Yes, I understand the danger I am putting myself into."

He and the pirate share several long seconds of silence. Being so close to the man, he could see on the left side of his face, a long scar going down to his eyebrow and towards his jaw, just barely missing his eye. He could see the bright moon illuminate strands of strawberry pink hair peeking out from under his cloak. The pirate's golden eyes seemed as if they were staring right through Tommy's soul, and he could help let out a small shiver when he heard the man ask, "What's your name, kid?"

"Tommy."

"Welcome aboard, Tommy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally supposed to be like three times as long but its almost been a month since I last updated and I didn't want to make people wait even more.
> 
> Updates will probably be inconsistent and I don't exactly have a schedule for this so I probably would post when I feel like it or when I have time to. I don't plan to leave this unfinished so don't worry about me dropping this. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'm open to feedback <3


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